


even the best fall down sometimes

by larienelengasse



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larienelengasse/pseuds/larienelengasse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aredhel returns to Gondolin with her young son Maeglin and Glorfindel learns something about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even the best fall down sometimes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeärwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ae%C3%A4rwen/gifts).



> Written for Aearwen for the Sultry in September fiction exchange at the Slashy Santa archive. The prompt included: “a Gondolin story, whatever pairing the writer feels like and a cameo/element of kid!Maeglin.” Pre-fall fic, with a wee bit of foreshadowing regarding the fate of Gondolin. The Fall of Gondolin is one of my favorite tales from Tolkien. I’m hoping here to portray that things were peaceful before the fall, even while the fate of the city is there underneath it all. I’m breaking with canon here and making Maeglin much younger than 80 years old at the time of his arrival in Gondolin with Aredhel. Eol’s arrival and death also falls outside of this story as I wanted to make Maeglin’s role a happy one for the requestor. Title from the song “Collide” by Howie Day.

Glorfindel turned his face toward the sky and closed his eyes. The night stars had retreated, the inky darkness of the evening sky turning a paler shade of blue. He could feel Anor’s rays start to warm his face as the Daystar rose above the mountains. The soft, cool breeze that rolled over the mountaintops caused his hair to gently lift before falling back into place. His cloak danced on Manwë’s breath, unfurling like the flags that snapped and waved over his head before curling back around his legs as the currents changed direction. The seasons were changing. Glorfindel could feel it in the air, in how the breeze grew stronger, cooler, carrying with it the first hints of fresh fallen snow from the peaks of the Encircling Mountains. It was early autumn and it would be the first fair day they experienced after the last vestiges of summer heat gripped the city for near a week. 

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool, crisp, clean air. He listened to the sounds of the Great Market coming alive below him: artisans and craftsman and farmers rolling up the walls of their tents; carts’ wheels clattering amongst the cobbled paths; the cheerful greetings passing amongst the purveyors. His watch was nearing its end and the palace began its daily business as delicious aromas of baking breads and roasting meats came from the kitchens of the king. Soon, his lord and princess would wake and Turgon would take his seat in the great hall, and Idril would take her morning walk amongst the people who adored her.

The last duty of his watch was to escort the princess through the city. She was amongst those who loved her and none wished her harm, but she was the heart of the king and as such would never be without protection, even when it seemed unnecessary. After he saw her safely home, he would return to his own bed and sleep for a while, preferably with his lover by his side. He was looking forward to a few days respite from his duties at the palace. Being lord of his own house came with its own set of responsibilities, and while he had his own head of household who managed the mundane, day-to-day business of running a household of some one-hundred-odd citizens, there were larger concerns that needed his personal attention.

Glorfindel was young for one of his rank, but what he lacked in years he made up for in lived experience. He had witnessed the Kinslaying, barely survived the Grinding Ice, and helped build Gondolin. He had seen the light of the Two Trees and seen darkness and desolation beyond imagining. Some days, he felt wearied by all he had seen and his heart was heavy with the guilt of losing Aredhel in Nan Dungortheb. His lord Turgon had long since absolved him of any blame, and it was true he did not bear sole responsibility, as his friend Ecthelion too had been amongst her escort. Still, he often hoped that she survived somewhere safe, though lack of word from her made this seem unlikely. 

His lover, Galdor, would oft tell him that there was a sadness in his eyes that vainly tried to dampen his beauty. But then, Galdor would smile and caress his cheek and tell him that there was nothing in all of Arda that could dim the light that shown from within him. Glorfindel often wondered if Galdor were not too good for him.

It was the thought of Galdor that made him smile in that moment. His lover would be waiting for him at the fountain to walk him home. They were lucky in that they shared the same hour of watch. Glorfindel was tasked with watching the East Gate, while Galdor guarded the West. Their friend Ecthelion would be in the middle, as he was Guardian of the Fountain, though he stood watch during the light of day.

“Good morn, my lord.”

It was Idril’s voice that met his ears and broke his waking reverie. 

“Good morn, my lady,” Glorfindel answered as he turned to meet her with a sweeping bow.

Idril smiled and laughed softly as she stepped out onto the walkway that encircled the Tower of the King, offering a graceful curtsey in response. Glorfindel extended his arm. “Shall we?”

Idril beamed and accepted the proffered arm by softly grasping it at the crook of Glorfindel’s elbow. “Yes, please.”

They nodded in greeting to his second, who would take up his lord’s post, and descended the winding stone stair upon entering the Tower. As they stepped into the streets the people immediately greeted their princess, smiling and offering the best of their wares. Thankfully, Hendor, Idril’s servant, came along with a small cart, as the lady was often reluctant to refuse the vendors. These walks would frequently end with a cartload of goods that Idril would then give away to the houses of the working classes.

As they walked, Idril questioned her companion. “When will you allow Galdor to make an honest lord of you?”

Though it was a question she often asked, it still made Glorfindel blush. “Am I dishonest now?” he asked.

Idril smiled and gently nudged Glorfindel. “You know my meaning.”

“Is it not enough that we love one another? Must we participate in a ceremony to prove our bond is strong?”

“Of course not. No one doubts the love you two have for one another,” she responded. She smiled and nodded in greeting to a vendor they passed. “I suspect that it is you who are reluctant. Eru knows that Galdor dotes upon you and hangs upon your every word.”

“My lady exaggerates,” Glorfindel teased.

“Perhaps a little, but it is no exaggeration to say that he is devoted to you. But back to the true import – are you the reluctant one?”

“Galdor is a noble elf, always forthright and brave. He has never failed our lord and never—”

“Oh, my sweet champion,” Idril interrupted. “When will you stop punishing yourself for your perceived failing?”

“’Twas I who lost her.”

“You were not her only escort, as Ecthelion and Egalmoth would be quick to remind. My father has never blamed you, nor have your fellow lords placed responsibility upon your shoulders. And for my part, I have grieved what this has done to your once lighthearted spirit. I do not blame you, Glorfindel. None of us do, least of all, Galdor. I yearn to hear you laugh as you did when we were younger, before so much sadness befell our state.”

Glorfindel gently patted her hand, laying his gloved hand atop hers as they walked. “And a wedding would wipe that sadness away?”

“Without doubt,” she answered with a smile.

“You are just looking for an excuse to plan a party, my lady,” Glorfindel teased, hoping to turn the topic to anything else.

“You have found me out,” she answered, exchanging a silver coin for a golden flower that a local gardener offered. She carefully tucked the flower into the top of Glorfindel’s breastplate. “It is the emblem of your house, therefore it is fitting that you should wear it.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Glorfindel said, bowing his head. “This will spark more rumors, of course.” They continued on their way, keenly aware of all the eyes that followed their passing.

Idril smiled slyly. “Half of the city already believes that I am hopelessly in love with you.”

“Our morning walks seem to encourage that.”

“Let them believe what they will,” she answered. “You and I know the truth. Your heart belongs to another, and mine waits for someone I do not yet know.”

“He will come, my lady. And when he does, he will have no choice but to love you for you are the fairest and best of all our kind.”

Idril smiled sweetly and leaned her head upon Glorfindel’s shoulder as they continued their walk through the market.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I know not which shines the brighter, my love or the sun above our heads,” Galdor said, rising from his seat under the trees to greet his lover.

“Perhaps the Daystar’s rays are blinding you,” Glorfindel responded, stepping into Galdor’s open arms.

“Oh, no, my lion,” he murmured into Glorfindel’s ear. “If I am blinded it is only by your extraordinary beauty.”

“What have I done to earn the love of the bravest of all of us?” Glorfindel asked, his lips caressing the curve of his lover’s ear as he did so.

“You were born,” Galdor responded, his hands sliding over the rough mail on his lover’s arms until they found Glorfindel’s slender but strong hands, and then he threaded their fingers together.

“And what have I done to be forced to bear witness to this horrible attempt at poetry?” Ecthelion teased as he passed them. “I thank Elbereth that the music of the fountain will drown out these lovesick musings.”

Galdor smiled and shook his head slightly. “Me thinks our friend is jealous,” he said huskily. “And who could blame him? My lover is the fairest in all the city, yea, even all the world.”

“Oh, do go on,” Ecthelion groused. “What shall you compare him to this morn? A rose? A summer’s day?”

“A lion,” Galdor said. “Strong, beautiful, noble and deadly.”

Ecthelion chuckled. “Take your lion home, Galdor. He has been on watch all night and is surely weary after escorting the princess through the market after his watch. Eru knows she has done nothing but question him on his intentions toward you.”

“I enjoy our walks,” Glorfindel protested. “Perhaps she would walk with you were you not oft so ill mannered.”

Ecthelion grinned. “Oh, Glorfindel. I do enjoy our friendship. Rarely do I meet one who so willingly . . . even enthusiastically walks into my verbal traps.”

Glorfindel simultaneously frowned and grinned at his old friend. “Shall we see you this evening?”

“Of course, my friend. Save me a place at the table,” Ecthelion answered. “Perhaps you will have more poetry for me to suffer through,” he called over his shoulder. He waved as he continued toward his post.

“I swear to you he is jealous,” Galdor said with a smile.

“He is too full of an odd sort of mirth this morn,” Glorfindel responded. 

“Come, my weary lion. Shall I walk you home? Tuck you into bed, perhaps?”

“Yes, on both counts,” Glorfindel said, cupping Galdor’s jaw and drawing him into a soft kiss. “Especially the latter.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Galdor responded huskily, wrapping his arm around Glorfindel’s waist as they walked toward the House of the Golden Flower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel half-sighed, half-moaned, stretching his long limbs as he began to wake. Warm hands travelled over his bare shoulders and back, followed by warm, soft lips. 

“Wake, my love,” Galdor’s deep voice called. 

“Must I?” Glorfindel murmured.

“Yes, you must.”

“Only if you wake me properly,” he said with a wicked smile as he rolled to his back.

“I would if we had time,” Galdor said.

Glorfindel opened his eyes and saw his lover sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed in his stately robes. He frowned and propped himself up on his elbows. “This will not do,” he groused. “It is our free day, and we are to spend it in bed. We agreed.”

“We have been summoned,” Galdor said with a sigh. “Believe me, were it anyone besides our lord…”

“What has happened?”

“Travelers have been met at the First Gate.”

“Who…” Glorfindel sat up abruptly and threw back the covers, quickly gaining his feet and pulling on his clothes. “Is it her? Has she returned?”

“I know not—”

“No one else could find those gates on their own, Galdor. No one. We have had no warning from the eagles or our scouts so it cannot be an enemy. It must be her. It must be Aredhel.” He quickly pulled his tunic over his head then reached for his boots.

“We shall find out soon enough, my love,” Galdor said. “Elemmakil brings them to the king.” He hoped Glorfindel was correct. His lover had suffered the guilt of Aredhel’s loss for too long.

They departed the House of the Golden Flower and ran through the streets toward the Tower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doors to Turgon’s hall burst open and Glorfindel and Galdor quickly entered. The first person Glorfindel saw was Ecthelion. His friend’s expression was unreadable. The warrior stepped aside and Glorfindel saw flowing white robes and hair as black as pitch. He held his breath as she turned and his knees nearly buckled when he saw Aredhel’s face. It was more than he had dared believe possible. Beside her was a youth of no more than twenty years of age. He had dark hair and large yet piercing dark eyes. Their garments were soiled from travel and they looked weary. 

“Glorfindel,” she said. “It is good to see you.”

He could not tell which was the stronger, relief that she was alive and well, or anger for the torment she had put them all through by insisting on the dangerous journey. Often the two notions had warred together. He looked at his lord who sat upon the throne. Relief was clearly writ upon Turgon’s face, but he remained unmoved from his seat. Idril stood beside him, her hands upon her father’s shoulder.

Glorfindel knew Idril as well as he knew himself; they had been friends all their lives. There was something in her eyes that worried him, for instead of excitement upon seeing her aunt he saw something akin to suspicion as she looked upon the child.

“This is my son, Maeglin,” Aredhel continued, undeterred. She approached Glorfindel with the youth, holding his hand and leading him forward.

“Where have you been?” he asked quietly. “We searched for you, for weeks in that black place. Egalmoth nearly died from his wounds.” His gaze flicked to where the Lord of the Heavenly Arch stood. Egalmoth, like Ecthelion, looked unmoved by the lady’s presence.

“I am sorry, Glorfindel. Many a night I felt shame and worry for what might have happened to you and the others. I knew you would not leave me unless presented with no other choice. I tried to find you; I swear it. But I was so lost, so turned around in the wood that I could not. Eventually, I reached Himlad, but Celegorm was not there.”

“And in all these years you thought not to send a raven to inform us that you were alive?”

Turgon asked the question that had threatened to burst from Glorfindel’s lips. The only thing that had held him back was her station. It would be improper to interrogate one of higher birth than himself, particularly in open court. By the looks on Ecthelion and Egalmoth’s faces, they too had been tempted to ask.

Aredhel turned to face her brother. “I could not risk such a thing. I could not risk revealing the location of the city to anyone.”

“Yet you are here,” Turgon responded.

“I came without escort,” Aredhel answered. 

“You came with a son.”

“I thought you would be pleased to know of him.”

Turgon rose and descended the dais. “I am pleased, sister. And I am most relieved that you are alive, but you must give us time to adjust to the news. We had given you up for dead – all of us had.” Turgon regarded the youth. “What of his father?”

“We left him behind,” Aredhel answered. “He would not allow us to leave Nan Elmoth. He would not allow Maeglin to know his Noldorin kindred.” She swallowed. “He was not . . . the husband I believed he would be. He threatened to put Maeglin in bonds rather than allow him to know the rest of his family.” Tears fell from her eyes. “What kind of father threatens his own son? Let alone when his son is only a child?”

Any anger that Glorfindel had been feeling faded when he heard how broken Aredhel sounded. 

“You should have chosen a better husband,” Idril said.

Glorfindel’s eyes widened in surprise. It was so unlike Idril to say something so unkind.

“Enough, Idril,” Turgon responded, turning to cast a sharp glance his daughter’s way. 

Idril lowered her eyes but did not offer an apology.

Aredhel also lowered her eyes. “She is right, of course,” she said. “I should have chosen better. It is no excuse but I was alone and he was seemingly kind.”

Turgon placed his hand on his sister’s shoulder. “What cause has your husband to hate us so?”

“He is of Elu Thingol’s folk. He blames the Noldor for the troubles of these lands, because of our rebellion against the Valar.”

“Like Thingol,” Turgon mused. He looked to Elemmakil. “You are sure they were not followed?”

“I am certain, my lord. They were alone. We are still on watch, but none have been seen.”

Turgon looked to his sister. “You and Maeglin are welcome, sister. We will raise him as our own.”

Glorfindel saw Idril bristle at the remark and he resolved to catch her alone to hear what was on her mind.

“But, neither of you may ever leave again,” Turgon continued. “Your son will want for nothing, and upon his majority may become lord of his own house, but never will the two of you, together or separate, leave Gondolin again.”

“I understand, brother,” Aredhel answered. “May we retire?”

“Yes, of course.” Turgon motioned to his head of house.

Maeglin tugged at his mother’s hand to stop her and produced a slender package from beneath his robes.

Aredhel looked down and placed her hand upon his head and nodded. She turned to Turgon. “Maeglin has a gift for you, brother.” She held the slender package out.

Turgon approached and unwrapped it slowly. Contained within the cloth was a black sword.

“Tell him,” she said quietly to Maeglin.

“It is made from iron that fell from the heavens,” he said softly. It was the first anyone in the throne room had heard him say. “My father made it and I took it when we left. He called it Anguirel. He gave its mate, Anglachel, to King Thingol. I thought you should have the other. He says it can cut through iron.”

Turgon nodded and smiled at the youth. “I shall carry it with me always, Maeglin.” He stroked the youth’s hair. “Now, you and your mother are weary. Take your rest and we shall speak more later.”

Turgon motioned to his butler, who escorted the lady and her son from the throne room.

“She is alive,” Glorfindel murmured as she walked away. 

“How she is so is a miracle,” Ecthelion answered, moving toward his friend. “You remember what that black place was like.”

“I remember all too well,” Egalmoth joined in. “The three of us, armed and all battle-seasoned, barely made it out with our lives.”

“How did she survive?” Glorfindel asked quietly.

“Perhaps we were rich bait and distracted those monsters,” Ecthelion said wryly.

“You are still angry,” Glorfindel said quietly to his friend.

“Yes, I am still angry,” Ecthelion hissed under his breath. “We nearly lost our lives all so she could travel.” The emphasis on the last word clearly illustrated Ecthelion’s lingering resentment toward Aredhel.

Glorfindel was not as angry as his friend, though he found it hard to argue with Ecthelion’s logic. 

Turgon dismissed his lords and left the throne room, ostensibly to think further on the morning’s events. Idril was also making to leave when Glorfindel quickly moved to intercept, catching her by the elbow. He was the only noble in all of Turgon’s court that could get away with so bold a move. None were as familiar with the princess as Glorfindel. 

“My lady,” he said softly. “May I have the pleasure of your company? A walk in the gardens, perhaps?”

Idril looked into her friend’s eyes and nodded. Glorfindel placed his hand on the small of her back and escorted her out of doors.

Ecthelion watched them leave and murmured to Galdor, “You know of the talk, yes?”

“I do,” Galdor responded.

“You know from whence it springs?”

Galdor looked Ecthelion in the eyes, “I know what you are trying to do, and I assure you I do not need you to protect me, my friend.”

“I do not question Glorfindel’s feelings for you, those are quite clear and have been for years. What concerns me is the king’s wishes for his daughter. He will see Idril married, and Glorfindel makes a handsome candidate. The entire city already believes that eventually the two of them will make a match.”

“They are lovely together, I will admit that,” Galdor said. “And if I did not know Glorfindel’s mind as well as I know his heart, I might have cause to worry.”

Ecthelion nodded. “I know that he would never betray you. It simply is not in his nature. He is quite incapable of dishonesty, as you well know. Perhaps, it would be wise if you were to find a way to make your feelings for him known to the king, just to avoid any confusion later on.”

“That is not my place and is most likely unnecessary. The princess is quite capable of speaking for herself as is Glorfindel.”

Ecthelion nodded. “I only ever mean to help, my friend.”

“I know,” Galdor said and he grasped his friend’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

“While the topic of your love life is riveting, Galdor, we do have more pressing matters at hand,” Egalmoth said wryly. “Do you not find the Lady’s tale most strange? She goes missing in arguably one of the most dangerous stretches of land in all of Beleriand, survives on her own armed only with a bow amongst venomous snakes and spiders the size of horses when the three of us, purportedly among Gondolin’s finest, barely make it out alive and we were armed to the teeth. She somehow finds her way out of the wood and to her cousin, only to go wandering alone again into Nan Elmoth when he does not return soon enough.” He frowned. “Either there was some dark power at work or she is quite possibly the luckiest lady to ever walk these lands.”

Ecthelion looked toward the door leading to the royal residence. “She married one who virtually kept her prisoner, I am not sure that counts as luck.”

“So, dark power then,” Egalmoth said. “And the youth with her was begot by that power.”

“You suspect the youth?” Galdor asked.

“I know not what to think,” Egalmoth said.

“Nor do I,” Ecthelion agreed. “At the very least, we should keep keen watch over both. Something in my bones tells me that their arrival is an evil portent.”

Galdor frowned. While he did not wish to suspect one so young of evil doing, particularly one of elf kind, there was something nagging at him as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“May I speak freely, your highness?” Glorfindel asked quietly as they walked through the gardens.

“Always, my friend,” Idril answered.

“You did not receive your aunt and cousin as I would have expected.”

“I did not expect to receive them at all.”

“Your comments toward the Lady Aredhel were . . . unlike you, my lady.”

She sighed. “I know, and for that I am ashamed, but something is amiss about all of this. Where has she been? I know she told us, but something about the tale does not feel right.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I understand your meaning. I too feel that something is amiss.” He looked around to ensure that none were listening. “Do you suspect that she is lying?”

“Not exactly,” Idril answered. “It is more like she withholds something.”

Glorfindel nodded. “The circumstances surrounding her return are nothing if not extraordinary. Perhaps we shall learn more in the days to come, but for now, I will counsel your father to double our watch around the borders of our lands and the secret path.”

Idril took Glorfindel’s hand. “Thank you for not merely dismissing my suspicions.”

Glorfindel smiled and squeezed the princess’s hand in both his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dinner that evening was subdued. Aredhel answered further questions from her brother regarding her disappearance and her life in Nan Elmoth. She spoke of Eol’s wooing of her, of how he convinced her to stay with him and be his wife, and of the birth of Maeglin. It was clear to all at the table that she loved her son more than life itself, and she brought him to Gondolin so that he would be raised among her people and know more than darkness in his life. 

Maeglin was quiet but he politely answered when spoken to. There was something subdued in the youth that made Glorfindel sad. He caught the stolen glances Maeglin cast his way, particularly the interest the youth showed in his hair. He sat next to Maeglin at the table and Galdor sat directly across from him. Galdor also watched Maeglin with kind eyes. Glorfindel could see that Galdor too felt sorry for the youth – clearly his earliest years had not been his brightest. Maeglin exhibited none of the exuberance that other young elves his age showed. Even as they ran around the great hall after the meal, throwing and catching balls, or playing with the many toys that Idril had collected at the market, Maeglin still sat beside his mother, his eyes firmly fixed on the warriors and ladies surrounding him. It was as if he was another breed altogether and had never been young at all.

He leaned over and quietly spoke to the youth. “You have no interest in play?”

“Not that sort of play, my lord. I outgrew toys years ago,” he answered.

“Then what amuses you?” Glorfindel asked.

“Collecting metals and gems and unusual rocks,” Maeglin responded.

“Then we shall have to take you into the hills,” Glorfindel said. “Penlod,” he pointed to the Lord of the united houses of The Pillar and the Tower of Snow, “claims that he can see gems glittering in the river that encircles our city, just beyond the walls.

Maeglin’s eyes brightened. “Truly?” 

“Yes,” Glorfindel answered. He paused to look at his lover, who seemed to read his mind, because he smiled and nodded. “Is tomorrow suitable?”

Maeglin turned in his chair and sat a little straighter. “Yes, Lord Glorfindel. Tomorrow is suitable.”

Glorfindel smiled at Maeglin and then cast a wink to his lover. “Might I ask your favor?”

“Anything,” Maeglin answered.

Lord Galdor and I will prepare a lunch for us to carry, if you will visit the Smith and collect the tools you will need.

“I will.” He bit his lip. “Can someone tell me where to find the Smith?”

Galdor smiled. “Your mother knows where to find him, my lord. 

Maeglin smiled and nodded, interest renewed in the food remaining upon his plate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I understand you are to take our nephew to search for jewels in the river,” Turgon said as he walked with Glorfindel through the corridors of the palace. 

“Yes, my lord. Galdor and I have no duties this day and the young lord said that he was interested in collecting metals, unusual rocks and gemstones.”

“It is kind of you to make him feel welcome.”

“He has been through much for one so young,” Glorfindel responded.

“No more than you. Less, I would argue.”

“Perhaps I feel a kinship with him because of it.”  
Turgon smiled and nodded. “I would like you to mentor him, Glorfindel. Show him the city, teach him how to be a noble and to be of service to the citizens of this land.”

Glorfindel stopped and looked at his king with surprise.

Turgon turned to look at Glorfindel. “Will that be a hardship?”

“No. No, my lord. None at all . . . I am merely surprised that you would ask me when there are others who have more to teach.”

Turgon placed his hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “You always think too little of yourself, Glorfindel. You may be the youngest of my lords, but you have always been one of the best. Your friendship with my daughter has taught me much about your heart.”

“I hold the lady in the highest regard,” Glorfindel said quietly.

“I dare say you do. You nearly lost your life trying to save her when she fell through the ice, though you were no more than thirty years of age at the time. You were little older than Maeglin is now and you showed not a single thought for your own safety. You only thought to catch her hand and hold tight until I could pull you both free.”

Glorfindel felt his cheeks color.

“Maeglin will learn to be a Gondolindrim through example. I can think of no finer example than you.”

“It is my honor,” Glorfindel said, bowing his head to his lord.

“Good,” Turgon said as he clasped Glorfindel’s shoulders. “Teach him well, Glorfindel. I fear there is some dark nature in him, passed from his father. The light in you will combat that darkness.”

“I will do my best.”

Turgon smiled. “You always do,” he said, leaving Glorfindel alone in the brightly lit corridor. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well then,” Glorfindel said, approaching Maeglin and Galdor in the bright courtyard. Maeglin was watching the fountain and Galdor stood beside him. “Are we ready to find riches untold?”

Maeglin turned around and looked at Glorfindel, a bright smile curving his lips, his eyes sparkling despite the fact that they were the darkest eyes Glorfindel had ever gazed into. “I will be happy to find anything, no matter how small,” he said.

“No doubt we will find something of interest,” Galdor said. “Maeglin has just been telling me of how many gems and stones he had cataloged at home.”

“I had to leave my journals behind,” Maeglin said as he walked between Glorfindel and Galdor, heading for the city gates.

Glorfindel put his hand on Maeglin’s slender shoulder. “Then you shall have to write new ones,” he said.

Maeglin smiled and nodded, then began to tell the warriors what his home had looked like and what his father was like.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galdor reclined on a blanket in the sun, propped up on one elbow. Glorfindel sat beside him, watching Maeglin explore the banks of the river.

“You never told me what the Lady Idril said to you yesterday.”

“She worries that something is amiss. It is hard to argue with her intuition.”

Galdor sighed. “Aredhel seems forthcoming enough, but I cannot escape the suspicion that she holds something back, something about Eöl.” 

“What think you of Maeglin?”

“He is bright, curious, clearly versed in metals and gems. The Smith said that he was very particular about the tools he needed today.”

“Do you think there is something dark inside him?” Glorfindel asked quietly.

“It is hard to say, my love. His father was a malcontent, but Aredhel, while headstrong, has always been a good lady. I would like to believe that there is more of her in him than of his father.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Turgon has made him my charge.”

“That is quite an honor,” Galdor said, adjusting his position so that he could lay his head in Glorfindel’s lap.

“I am to mentor him in the ways of Lordship.”

“You make that sound as if it is a dubious task.” He reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind Glorfindel’s ear.

“The task itself is good enough, it is my ability to do it that I find dubious.”

“That is nonsense. I can think of none better, particularly if there is some kind of darkness lurking deep inside the youth. Your light will outshine it and banish it forever.”

“That is what his majesty said.”

“He is wise. That is why he is king.”

Glorfindel chuckled and looked down at his lover, who smiled up at him. “You always think the best of me.”

“You always are worthy of such thinking,” Galdor said. He smiled and tucked one of his hands beneath Glorfindel’s thigh. “Bond with me,” he said.

Glorfindel felt his breath catch and his chest tighten. Galdor said it so casually, so easily, so certainly. “Just like that?”

Galdor was still smiling. “Just like that. I love you, Glorfindel. I will never love you any more than I do in this moment, and I will love you just like this every day for the rest of time.”

Glorfindel caressed his lover’s face. “I do not deserve you.”

“Oh, my lion. You deserve so much more than me.”

“I will bond with you,” Glorfindel said, leaning down as Galdor sat up, bringing their lips together in a kiss.

“And I am the luckier for it,” Galdor murmured against his lover’s mouth, before delving in deep.

Later that afternoon, as the trio returned to the city, Maeglin said: “I hope that I love someone as much as the two of you love each other, one day.”

Glorfindel smiled and put his arm around the youth’s shoulders. “You will.”

Glorfindel watched Maeglin as he ran ahead, inspecting the merchants’ wares in the Great Market. Galdor held Glorfindel’s hand as they walked and Maeglin would often look back toward them with a bright smile upon his face. The breeze was strong and crisp, and white, full clouds traversed the blue sky over head. The flags on the city walls flapped in the breeze and they could hear the music of the fountains outside the Tower of the King. The eagles soared overhead and the smell of roses and jasmine was on the air. No matter what was to come in the days and years ahead, Glorfindel knew in that moment that life could be no better than it was on that late summer day.

~Finis


End file.
